


Still Alive

by DragonHeartstring360



Series: Supernatural Imagines [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Other, Purgatory, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 11:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24848665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonHeartstring360/pseuds/DragonHeartstring360
Summary: While watching the season 7 finale of Supernatural, you're zapped from your world to a world where everything that happened in the show is real. Sam's real. Dean's real. Monsters are real. And so is Purgatory--where Dean's currently trapped, unbeknownst to Sam. How convenient that you end up getting zapped into his backyard. But now for the hard part: trying to convince Sam you're telling the truth.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Series: Supernatural Imagines [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/897234
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	1. What About Dean?

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by @totallyluciferr on Tumblr (you can follow me for updates and fics @were-all-idjits-here): "the reader lives in a universe where Supernatural is fiction and they’re a big fan of SPN, so the reader is re-watching the episode where Dean and Castiel gets zapped to Purgatory, they suddenly get zapped to Sam and Amelia’s house. Then the reader tries to tell Sam that Dean is trapped in Purgatory and needs help. The reader ends up meeting and saving Dean."

You noticed how heavy your head felt before you even opened your eyes. A hard, cold surface laid beneath you and you frowned. The last thing you remember was laying on the couch in your shitty apartment, trying to drown out your screaming neighbors on one side and the blaring music on the other with your favorite show, _Supernatural_. It had partially been working, even if you were annoyed at having to turn subtitles on to be able to understand some of what they were saying. You had almost nodded off right when Dean and Cas got zapped to Purgatory in the season 7 finale when there had been a bright white light. Had you fallen to the floor maybe? But what had the light been?

You groaned and slowly sat up, bringing a hand up to your head. Your forehead bumped something cold and you slowly opened your eyes, backing up a bit. You were suddenly very awake as you realized there was a gun pointed at you. You were even _more_ awake when you followed the hand holding it up to the face and realized you were sprawled out on a nicely manicured lawn in front of Sam Winchester.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment before you broke the silence with a loud, “ _What the fuck!_ ”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking,” Sam growled, still pointing his gun at you. “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

You blinked, jumping as you heard the safety click off. “Take it easy. I have no clue how I got here. I was on my couch one minute and now I’m here and this can’t possibly be real and holy shit, I must’ve had too much to drink and oh my god you’re Sam fucking Winchester, I thought this was just a TV show, what the fuck is going on—”

“Okay, easy, easy!” Sam lowered his gun, but still kept it tightly in his hand. He frowned before holding out a hand to help you up.

You hesitantly took it and let him pull you to your feet. Sam clicked the safety back on the gun and tucked it into the waistband of his pants. He roughly grabbed your wrist and yanked you across the backyard, up the steps of the back porch and through a back door into a dimly lit kitchen. You recognized the house as Amelia’s from the show and realized you must be somewhere either in or close to the season 8 premiere. _In or close to the season 8 premiere_ —holy hell, had you seriously somehow been Blue scadooed into the TV? That couldn’t be possible, no fucking way—

“Hey, hey, hey—breathe!” Sam suddenly knelt in front of you from where he’d been rummaging through the cupboards. You suddenly realized the faint wheezing sound you’d been hearing was coming from you and it felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest. You grabbed the table for support, your palm coming down flat on top of a fork. The prongs stung your hand, confirming this was real. You wouldn’t be able to feel pain in a dream, right?

A brown paper bag was suddenly thrust in front of you and you panted into it gratefully. After a few minutes, you could feel your pulse and breathing slow.

“That’s it, nice and slow,” Sam said, taking a deep breath in and slowly blowing it out. You mimicked him for several minutes until you felt coherent enough to set the bag down on the counter. “Hold this,” Sam said quietly, gently putting the silver fork into your hand. When nothing happened, he handed you a glass of water next. “Drink this.” Again, nothing happened and Sam sat down across from you, seeming satisfied.

You let a deep breath out slowly before asking, “How the hell is this real?”

Sam shook his head. It took all your restraint not to laugh at the famous wifi-shaped wrinkles that formed above his brow. “I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, then down his face. “What did you mean you thought this was just a TV show? And how do you know my name?”

“It’s gonna sound insane.”

“I specialize in insane. Try me.”

You swallowed hard, taking another drink of water. “So, um…I came from this…world, I guess, where your and Dean’s lives are a TV show and you’re fictional characters. I was actually on the episode that shows the events that happened probably…six-ish months ago, fell asleep, saw a bright white light and then woke up in your backyard.”

Sam nodded. “Dean and I got zapped to some sort of universe forever ago where our lives were a TV show. We kept getting mistaken for the actors.”

“Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right. Why would you wanna watch our lives anyway? It’s just a bunch of darkness and death and despair.” His face seemed to sink at the last sentence and you noticed his dark circles and sunken cheeks. You glanced at the clock you noticed behind him to see it read 3:30am. So he wasn’t sleeping. It made sense after everything he’d been through.

“Well, I mean…at first, it was kind of cathartic, watching the good guys win, ya know? Then I just got so attached to you and Dean as characters—er, people, I guess, that I just kept watching. I just wanted to root for you and watch you win.”

Sam smiled sadly. “Well, thanks, I guess. Haven’t been a lot of wins lately.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, “I’m sorry. Thanks for saving the world and stuff.”

Sam gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, avoiding your gaze as he picked some stray paint off the edge of the kitchen table. “So…what did you mean when you said you were on the episode about events six months or so ago? What happened?”

You hesitated, realizing how fragile of a state he was still in. “You sure you wanna know?”

His dark circles seemed even more prominent now. “When we…lost Dean?”

“Yeah,” you barely whispered.

Sam nodded, biting his lip and looking at his lap, renewing his efforts to pick at the table. The two of you sat in awkward silence for several minutes.

“I’m sorry you had to watch that,” you finally murmured.

“Yeah, me too.” He paused. “I’ve seen my brother die before, but it always felt like I could bring him back, ya know? This time…there isn’t even a body left to bring back. He’s really gone for good this time.” He sniffled. “But, I’ll figure out how to get you home, don’t worry—”

“Dean’s not dead,” you blurted.

Sam’s head shot up and he stared at you bug-eyed. “What?”

“He’s not dead. When monsters die, they go to Purgatory, which is where Dick went. That’s where Dean and Cas are. They’re still alive.”

Sam squinted suspiciously. “Says who? The show?”

You nodded. What followed was a long string of questioning from Sam about events from the show, no doubt trying to find out how accurate it was to his real life—which still felt insane to say; you still weren’t completely convinced one of your neighbors’ drug fumes hadn’t floated through your vents and triggered some sort of acid dream—and you answered them to the best of your ability.

By the time 45 minutes had flown by full of questions, you sighed. “Look, Sam, you said you’d been to my universe, so you know it’s a real place. I passed all your tests, so I’m not a monster that’s trying to drag you out of your apple pie life. How long has it been since Dean and Cas disappeared?”

“Six months,” Sam answered, his face still skeptic.

“Okay, so Dean was trapped in Purgatory for a year in the show. There’s a portal in Purgatory that lets humans escape, since they’re not supposed to be there. I don’t know how the hell we would do it, but if we can find where he emerges from Purgatory and somehow get a message to him, we can get him out.”

Sam opened his mouth to reply when a woman’s voice behind you suddenly said, “Sam? What’s going on?”

You spun around to see a sleepy Amelia standing in her PJs, looking at you blearily with wary dark eyes.

Sam glanced at you, then smoothly said, “She was on her way home from a friend’s sleepover and got lost. She stopped here to ask for help. I know her address and I’m gonna drive her home.”

Amelia frowned. “You were on your way home from a friend’s sleepover at almost five in the morning?”

“Things were getting a little too rowdy for me.” You hoped you looked and sounded convincing. “They’re big partiers and I guess I didn’t realize how big till the drugs came out and…” You did your best to look sheepish and shrugged. “I noped out of there.”

“Oh, yikes,” Amelia said. She looked at Sam. “You’ll be back soon?”

“Yeah,” he answered, grabbing a familiar set of car keys off the counter behind him. He stood and gave her a parting kiss. “Go back to bed. I’ll join you soon.” He motioned for you to follow as Amelia trudged back up the steps to the bedroom.

You stood in awe for a moment as Sam led you to the garage. The Impala. Baby. You gently reached out and touched the immaculate black paint, feeling a strange sense of calm as you looked over the car. Sam watched you from the driver’s side. “Big part of the show, I take it?”

“It’s practically its own character,” you replied. “If something happened to Baby, I’d probably cry.”

Sam chuckled as he climbed in. “Dean would’ve loved you.”

You climbed in after him, making sure to take care with how you shut the door. You sighed as you settled down on the leather seat. This felt good. This felt like home. “ _Would_ , Sam. He’s still alive.”

Sam glanced at you warily before opening the garage door and firing up the engine. He didn’t reply as you backed out of the driveway and sped down the road. “There’s a motel about five miles away. I’ll get you a room for a couple days while I figure out how to get you home. Don’t worry about the bill.”

“I don’t want to go home, Sam, I want to find Dean.”

“Listen, this isn’t a life you should want just because some TV show romanticizes hunting. Hunting isn’t some noble, epic good versus evil battle. It’s brutal and all it has is death and darkness and pain. You lose people all the time, there’s risk of you dying all the time, you see things you can never unsee—”

“Yes, I know, I do watch the show. I’m not saying the life is like that, I’m saying you’re _doing something_. You’re saving people and through that, proving your worth. Plus it’s not like I don’t have my own trauma, you know. My life home is shit. I don’t even have anyone or anything, a shit apartment, a shit job—”

“I’m not saying you don’t have your own trauma or that it isn’t as valid. But you seriously think this is better? If it weren’t for Amelia, I wouldn’t have anyone right now either.”

“But _Dean’s alive_ , Sam! We can save him!”

“Just stop talking about it, okay?”

“Why won’t you believe me? I aced your quiz back in the kitchen.”

“I just don’t know if I believe you. That’s a _show_ , it’s Hollywoodized! This is real life!”

“Do you really not believe or do you just not _want_ to believe me?” Sam didn’t reply, but you could see how white his knuckles were as they gripped the wheel. You had always been frustrated with the fact that Sam didn’t look for Dean in the show, but had always held a level of sympathy for him. That level was quickly evaporating. If it was Dean you were talking to, he probably would’ve taken any chance—no matter how small—that his brother was alive and done something with it. You saw the motel fast approaching out the window and knew you were quickly losing your chance. “How many times as Kevin called you, hm? Kevin needs help, I have proof that your brother’s alive and we can save him and you’re _seriously_ just gonna _sit here on your ass_ —”

The Impala’s tires screeched as Sam made a hard right into the motel parking lot, barely putting the car in park before yanking the keys out of the ignition. “Stay here,” he growled before slamming the door closed behind him and stomping into the lobby.

You fumed in your seat, pulling out your phone to find that you did have signal. You quickly opened the Notes app and jotted down the place where you remembered Dean emerges from Purgatory in the show before you forgot. Since _someone_ wasn’t interested in helping you, maybe you would just have to make a visit yourself. But he wouldn’t escape for another six months. How the hell were you going to speed that time frame up? Witchcraft, maybe? But you didn’t know anything about hunting. If you tried to contact a witch, you would end up dead for sure.

Just as you were googling where the nearest library was, a knock on your car window made you jump. Sam stood there, still fuming and holding two keys in his hand. You rolled your eyes and got out, following him into room 205 on the second floor. He slammed the door behind you, pointing a long finger at you. “You stay in this room until I can figure out a way to get you home—and you _are_ going home. Don’t get any funny ideas.”

“So you’re trapping me here? Should I assume both of those keys are for you then?”

He handed over a key, along with a credit card to your surprise. “This is for clothes and food. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get you home.” He handed you his phone next. “Put in your number and name.”

You begrudgingly complied and handed him your phone to do the same.

“Stay,” Sam said again as he made his way towards the door. “You’ll thank me later.”

“What about Dean?”

Sam sighed, pausing in the doorway. “We’ll see. But there’s no way he’s still alive.”

“I’m telling you, there is.”

You saw Sam’s shoulders heave for a brief moment. “I’ll look into it.” With that, he slammed the door behind him and you heard the click of the lock, completing your cage.


	2. Purgatory A La Astra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile since I've seen this part of the show and I don't 100% know how astral projection works, so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Thanks so much for reading. You can find updates on my writing via my Tumblr @were-all-idjits-here.

What was it with going to sleep one place and then waking up in the next? You blinked, slowly sitting up as you rubbed your eyes and took in the dreary, dark forest around you. This had to be a dream, right? You took a moment to scan your surroundings, jumping as several twigs snapped a few yards behind you. You quickly rose to a crouch, your hand closing around a large branch that had fallen from one of the trees. When there was no further sound or movement, you slowly began to get up. Right as you found your feet, a dark shape suddenly slammed into you, knocking the branch from your hand. You winced as your back hit the hard bark of a tree and were pinned in place.

“Where’s the angel?” a rough voice asked.

Your eyes flew open, coming face to face with none other than Dean Winchester. You stared for a moment, your mouth moving but no sound coming out. This had to all be some sort of acid dream…

“Answer me!” Dean pressed you further against the tree and you could feel the rough bark scraping you through your PJ shirt.

PJs—wait, you were in the PJs you had bought at the Target by the motel. The same ones you had worn to go to sleep in the motel room. You hadn’t been wearing them when you’d first made contact with Sam. So at least that part was real. But how the holy fuck did you get to Purgatory? You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to recall anything that might be helpful and remembered during your research at the library, you’d found out the motel had been built on top of an ancient Native American site that was supposedly used for astral projection. There were stories that some of the old magics used still lingered. Maybe something had happened while you’d been dreaming?

“I don’t, I’m—Jesus…” You didn’t know what to say. Having Sam Winchester point a gun at you in a normal backyard of a normal house was one thing. Dean Winchester holding a makeshift machete to your throat and pinning you against a tree in Purgatory where he’d been trapped with nothing but monsters for six months: completely different level of _oh, fuck_. “I’m not a monster, I swear—”

Dean eyed you for a moment with an expression you couldn’t identify. You hadn’t even gotten used to the fact that _the_ Dean Winchester was standing in front of you when he reached a hand into his pocket and whipped it up to your face. You flinched, expecting a punch, but were met with water splashing over your face instead. Next, he roughly grabbed your palm and pressed a small silver ring into the middle of it. When nothing happened, he frowned, staring at you for a minute before taking several large steps back. You leaned on your knees for support as you caught your breath.

“You’re…human,” he finally said, staring at you as if you’d grown a second head.

You nodded, rubbing the sore spot on your neck where the machete had been. “I…I don’t know how I got here. Sam dropped—”

“Sam?” Dean walked closer, his eyes large and hopeful. “My brother, Sam? Sam Winchester?”

“Yeah.”

“Is he looking for me? Are you helping him?”

You nodded. “Sort of. Apparently, the motel I’m at is famous for old magic that’s still hanging around from the Native Americans that lets you astral project, so I’m not sure if that’s how I got here.”

“So where’s Sam?”

You took a moment to look Dean over while you tried to figure out what to say. He was covered in dirt and grime, the strange gray pallor that hung over Purgatory making it even worse. Dried blood coated his face, hair and clothes, which were also torn and dirty. He’d already been here six months, but still looked like he could pick you up and crush you with his bare hands.

“I…don’t have a good way to explain without telling you everything.”

Dean nodded, motioning you deeper into the woods towards a small fire burned with a bag next to it. Dean sat a few feet away, still wary of you. You launched into the same tale you told Sam, trying to keep it concise as strange sounds circled around you in the dark, unsurprised when Dean started giving the same quiz about his life that Sam had. When he was finally satisfied, he turned his attention to the fire and was quiet for several minutes, absentmindedly picking the grime out from under his fingernails with the tip of the machete.

“You don’t think I sound insane?” you finally asked.

“I don’t think anything is insane anymore,” he replied, finally returning his attention to you. “Plus you showed up in Purgatory completely clean and in…” he grimaced, “ _cat PJs_.”

You glanced down at your shirt. “What’s wrong with cats?”

“They’re _cats!_ ”

“It’s not like I have matching bottoms!”

“Yeah, well, at least you have that going for you.”

“Hey!”

Dean shrugged, trying to appear annoyed, but it seemed like he was relieved to have contact with another human being. Albeit an astral projected (if that’s what had happened) one. “Anyway, why are you helping Sam find me? Why not just go home?”

You paused as you thought about what you wanted to say. “Just after watching so long and getting so attached to you guys, I just wanted to help where I could. Plus, Sam has no idea how to get me home anyway. _And_ , I’ve already had this conversation with Sam and I’m not having it again: my life at home is shit and worthless and I know the hunting life fucking sucks, but at least you’re doing something. You’re helping people and saving people and I want to be a part of that.”

“You can’t seriously want to stay _here_ —”

“I can and I’m going to.”

“This isn’t a life you want, kid.” He gestured to his surroundings. “Look where it got me. Maybe you don’t have much back at home, but at least you’re safe. There aren’t monsters.”

“There are monsters. They just look different.”

Dean stared at you as if trying to pull something from your eyes. You stared back with just as much intensity, trying to let him know without words how much you needed a purpose. You weren’t stupid, you knew the risks of this life. But your life back home was going nowhere. Despite the risks of the hunting life, at least you could do some good, leave a legacy if the worst should happen. You could save people and maybe even save yourself.

Dean shrugged. “Okay. But don’t say later that you didn’t realize what you were getting yourself into.”

“I won’t. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. There’s a way out of here. Well, for humans at least.”

“According to the show?”

“Yeah. There’s a portal. Humans aren’t supposed to be here, and the portal will help you escape. There’s a vampire named Benny that can take you to it.”

Dean thought for a moment. “I need to find Cas first. The show doesn’t say where he is, does it?”

You shook your head. “He just kind of shows up. I think you need to find Benny first, then you find Cas.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, but how do we get you back to…the motel or whatever? I’m assuming you and Sam will be waiting on the other side of wherever this portal leads?”

“Um…”

“What? Is Sam okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine, he just…sort of…”

Dean’s eyes were an intense green in the dark that seemed to yank the information out of you at will. “He what?”

“He, um, said he didn’t know if he believed me and every time I asked him how we would move forward, he just danced around the question and kept saying he would be in touch to figure out how to get me home. He put me up in a motel close to his house—well, his girlfriend’s house—and just told me to stay put.”

Dean’s face was an unreadable wall for several seconds. He finally turned away, but you could see the information had bothered him. “I’m sure he’s just trying to keep you safe while he figures something out.” He turned his eyes back to you. “You’re _sure_ you want to become a hunter? You’re 100% positive that’s what you want, that this life is better than what you have at home or what you could possibly have in the future at home?”

“Yes, 100%.”

Dean signed. “All right, well if you’re gonna be dumb, you should at least be smart about it. If I make it out of here alive, Sammy and I will show you the ropes.”

You nod, breathing a sigh of relief.

“By the way, what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

A shrill noise suddenly fills your head and you squeeze your eyes shut as your head rings. When you open them again, you recognize the motel room ceiling above you. Daylight spills in through the gap in the curtains and as you glance around the room, you realize the shrill noise is your phone ringing. You see Sam’s name on the screen and quickly sit up to answer. “Sam?”

“Hey,” you hear his voice on the other end. “How you holding up?”

“Um, I’m okay. Just woke up.”

“Sorry if I woke you.” He sighed. “So, I have this friend name Lee that I called to come help you. He’s a hunter and has dealt with some weird, interdimensional shit before and thinks he can help. He’s on his way to you now and says he should be there in about three days. You got everything you need till then?”

“I think so…You mean help me get back home?”

“Yes, and you _are_ going.”

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and let your hands fall into your lap, sighing. “Sam, we’ve had this conversation—”

“Yes, we have, and you’re going back home.”

“What about Dean?”

“Y/N…Just, he’s dead, okay? There’s no way in hell he’s alive.”

“Yeah, because he’s not in hell, he’s in _Purgatory_ , Sam. Literally every single detail of the show has been accurate so far. Why wouldn’t this be? I know I’m some stranger, but if there’s even a chance he’s alive, don’t you want to take it? He would do it for you.”

“I’ve gotta go, but Lee should be there by Friday, okay? Until then, let me know if you need anything.”

“Sam—” You resist the urge to scream as the line goes dead. You let your phone fall onto the bed before heading into the bathroom, your screaming bladder something you can no longer ignore. You do a double take as you walk by the mirror. On the back of your light gray PJ shorts, there are two dark mud stains. Your mind flashed back to the dream and how real everything had felt, the passage about this motel still having old magic floating around and your conversation with Dean. You _knew_ he was alive and you knew how to get to him. If that wasn’t enough for Sam, then it would be enough for you. You still had three days to get out of town before Lee got here and forced you back home—forced Dean to stay trapped in Purgatory for another six months. It was time for a road trip.


	3. Now We Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final part of this series. Sorry it's taken so long, been recovering from some burnout from a toxic work environment. Hope you enjoy!

Birds trilled in the trees overhead. The breeze caused the evening light to dance through the forest as you stared at an unassuming spot on the ground. This was where Dean would emerge— _whenever_ he emerged. But who knew how long that would take? You had already wasted a full day and night going to Target and stocking your new backpack full of supplies, getting a full night’s sleep (if things went bad, who knew when you’d have a chance to be well rested again?) and finding transportation all the way from the motel near Amelia and Sam’s to this specific spot. Then nearly another full day to get here. You’d tried to be careful and took out as much cash from Sam’s credit card as you could, but who knew how fast he would track you down?

You sighed and shouldered your backpack full of supplies as you trudged back to the motel you were staying at. It was nearing dark and you didn’t want to be caught out here after the sun set. Plus, you had to figure out a way to contact Dean so you knew how close he was to escaping Purgatory. About 30 minutes later, you let your backpack fall to the floor with a thud, pulling out your new laptop and opening your browser. The library in both towns you’d stayed in weren’t very helpful in figuring out how to astral project without being on top of old lingering magics. The second night you’d stayed at the first motel unfortunately didn’t render anymore visions of Dean. But after some Googling, you _had_ found a YouTube link reading “Astral Projection Music *VERY STRONG*” that would hopefully at least point you in the right direction.

You settled onto your bed and took a deep breath before clicking the link. Ambient music with some strange undertones you couldn’t describe engulfed the motel room. You leaned back against the pillows and closed your eyes. You weren’t sure how long it took, but you felt yourself falling asleep. Your last thought before succumbing was a sinking feeling of disappointment as you realized this music would probably give you the best night of sleep of your life at best.

“ _Son of a bitch!_ ” a rough voice barked in your ear.

You jumped and snapped upright to smack right into someone’s forehead. “ _Ow_ ,” you muttered, rubbing at the spot that was sure to bruise later. You jumped as you saw Dean’s face just inches from yours doing the same. “Shit, it worked.”

“You sure you’re not a witch?” Dean asked. He was sprawled out on the ground next to you on top of his jacket, eyes bleary and hair sticking up every which way. You’d have laughed if you weren’t in Purgatory. The sky was darker than the first time you’d visited and the campfire was slowly dwindling. It looked to be a different clearing than last time; this time, he was near a stream, with two other jackets spread out around the fire.

“Um, no,” you replied. “Would’ve given a lot of assholes back home a good scare if I was. Did you find Cas and Benny?”

Dean groaned as he sat up. “Yeah. Benny’s hunting and Cas went further down the river to see if he could figure out which way this portal is.”

“You’ve got the spell ready for Benny?”

“Yep.”

“You found them fast. It’s only been a few days.”

Dean shrugged. “Benny wasn’t too far behind you. Or maybe you showing up changed things. He says he’s gonna take us to the portal tomorrow.”

“Good. What time?”

“No idea. We’re gonna start out first thing in the morning and get there as fast as we can. But make sure you tell Sam—”

You cleared your throat and looked away awkwardly, picking some dirt out from underneath your fingernails. You sighed and steeled yourself. Better to just rip the band-aid off quickly. “I’m alone, Dean.”

Dean stared at you with a blank expression for several moments.

Before he could cut in, you continued, “He won’t be catching up to me, either. He still doesn’t believe me and dumped my situation onto another hunter that was supposed to show up at the old motel I was staying at.” You inhaled deeply. You didn’t like telling him this, but better he knew everything upfront. As big of a fan of the show as you were, you knew how he reacted to secrets. “He…seems pretty convinced you’re dead and there’s no bringing you back this time.”

Dean shifted his still blank gaze to the dying flames. “What about Kevin?”

“I don’t think he and Sam have been in contact. From what I know of the show and judging by Sam’s reaction when I brought it up, Kevin’s been trying to get a hold of him and Sam just hasn’t been answering.”

“ _What?_ ” Dean looked angry now and you bit your lip, unsure how to continue. You spread your hands in an irritated gesture instead. “You’re 100% positive about all this?”

“Yes.”

“How—”

A loud crashing noise broke you out of your sleep and you cursed under your breath. You glanced around the room—now shrouded in darkness—to see that your backpack had fallen off the end table from where you’d precariously balanced it just before nodding off. The astral projection music no longer played and your laptop screen was dark, making it impossible to know how long ago it had stopped. You wiggled your mouse to see the clock read six in the morning. You weren’t sure how early Dean, Benny and Cas were planning on starting out, or if time even flowed the same in Purgatory. You quickly shot up, stuffed all your spilled belongings and laptop back into your backpack and made your way out of the safety of the motel and into the woods.

* * *

You sighed as you plopped down on the ground in the very same spot you’d stood at earlier, wondering how in the fuck you had even gotten yourself here. The campers who had originally been here in the show—and subsequently been scared shitless by Dean—trudged off in the distance, grumbling distantly as the bob of their flashlight receded further into the woods. You felt bad for pulling all the asshole-ery you did to make them move, but this really was the best spot to look out for Dean. The sky was beginning to get lighter and the sounds of the breeze and waking birds made you want to nod off again. You did your best to resist, but as the minutes ticked by with no sign of Dean, you felt your eyes grow heavier and heavier.

You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep until you were jolted awake by a loud bang and a blinding white light that forced you to close your eyes again. You breathed a sigh of relief upon opening them and realizing you were still in the woods and not back in your living room. You scrambled to your feet as the figure in front of you did the same, holding your knife out in front of you awkwardly. You stared wide-eyed at the tall, green eyes and dirty face of Dean Winchester. He seemed frozen with his gun pointed at you. You scrambled for something to say but came up short, feeling equally stuck with your knife out in front of you.

“Holy shit, you’re real,” you both muttered at the same time.

You heard the safety of Dean’s gun click as he slowly lowered it, tucking it into the waistband of his pants. He looked around, his shoulders just barely slumping as he realized you really were alone. He turned his attention back to you and raised an eyebrow. “Did you help me escape Purgatory just to shank me as soon as I got out?”

“What?” You felt some of the tension leave your body and realized you were still holding your knife out in front of you. “Oh, sorry.” You tucked it back into the sheath that was attached to your pants leg, noting for the first time the glowing blue light shining from Dean’s forearm.

He followed your eyes before making his way past you. “Wait here,” he mumbled, squeezing your shoulder as he went by. You felt a small thrill go through you at the contact before plopping back down next to your backpack. You watched as he disappeared through the foliage, knowing Benny was waiting for freedom. You sat and watched the sun come up through the trees and breathed a sigh. Even sitting in these woods with no home, no job, not even a guarantee that you’d be alive this time next month, felt better than the despair that had constantly engulfed you in your shitty apartment. You felt like you were finally where you were meant to be. Just being around Dean gave you more of a feeling of home than you’d ever had. You rested your head on your knees, hoping what came next was three days of sleep. You were mentally exhausted after everything that had happened.

A hand gently shook your shoulder and looked up to see Dean crouched next to you, his arm now bandaged. You hadn’t even heard him coming. “Thanks, kid,” he said, looking just as tired as you felt. “You got a motel room near here?”

“Yeah,” you replied, gathering your legs under you. Dean stood, offering his hand. Another small thrill ran through you as you took it and Dean seemed surprised as well. You stood and stared at each other for a minute, hands still clasped. Although he looked worse for wear, you knew he’d been through worse. His green eyes weren’t as intense as before and all the energy seemed to bleed out of him as he sighed, closing his eyes before giving your hand a final squeeze. Your trance broke and you let go, leading him through the woods to your motel room.

Once away from any prying eyes, you ordered food while he showered. Although you hadn’t done anything to warrant a shower, hot water sounded divine and felt even better. You emerged from the bathroom and sighed in contentment, laughing when you noticed Dean scarfing down a hamburger while trying to fit several fries in his mouth at once. “You’re gonna choke.”

“Ihf hambuwgew ih how Ah go, ih how Ah go,” he replied around a mouthful of food, several morsels of hamburger meat falling out of his mouth in the process. He made an “mm” of surprise, quickly picking them back off his shirt and plopping them back in his still-full mouth.

You shook your head and smiled as you sat down across from him. “Is mine still there—oh, wow, it is.”

“Ah diden loof all my manners in Puwgatowy.”

You gave him a look. “You didn’t have manners _before_ Purgatory.”

“Ey! Littlew shit.”

You laughed and although Dean’s mouth was far too full of food to smile, his green eyes danced with mirth for what was likely the first time since Purgatory. You sat in companionable silence as you dug into your own burger, just enjoying the quiet. It was suddenly interrupted by a loud _GULP_ from Dean and you burst out laughing. “I wish I was getting you on video right now.”

“I’m glad you’re not. Okay, but listen, I’ve got something serious to say— _buuuuuuurrrrrppppp_.”

You threw your head back and cackled, feeling tears start to leak from your eyes.

“Shut up, kid, I’m starving!”

“I can tell,” you laughed, meeting Dean’s eyes once again. Despite the sternness in his tone, he was smiling as well. You should’ve felt nervous—you had always had a bit of a crush on Dean, although you liked Sam well enough—but everything just felt _easy_ with the older Winchester.

“But seriously,” Dean continued as both your smiles and laughter faded, “thank you. Benny got out and Cas…um…” He went quiet, his face going solemn and his hand squeezing into a fist on the table.

“I watch the show,” you replied just as quietly. “I know. You don’t have to say anything.”

Dean nodded his thanks and you gently covered his fist to squeeze his hand. He uncurled his fingers and linked them through yours to give another quick squeeze. To your surprise, he didn’t let go and if he didn’t want to, who were you to leave him hanging? You glanced up to find him staring at you, both of you quickly looking away. Your fingers were still entwined and only separated at a series of loud, sharp knocks on the door.

Dean’s face quickly morphed in the same anger you’d seen on the show many times during hunts. “You expecting anyone?” he asked lowly.

“No,” you replied. The two of you quietly got up in tandem and without even speaking, you drew your knife and hid behind the door as Dean pulled his gun from his waistband. The click of the safety sounded deafening in the silence as the knocking continued. You held your breath as Dean slowly unlocked the door before throwing it open with his gun pointed at the intruder.

“Y/N—” you recognized Sam’s angry voice which was suddenly cut short as he saw who stood in the doorway. From behind the door, you saw water suddenly splash onto Dean’s face. He blinked and pursed his lips before wiping the water away from his eyes.

“Hiya, Sammy,” he said, his face a mixture of relief, warmth and resentment. He stepped away from the door to let his brother in.

Sam stared at Dean in shock as he closed the door behind him. The sound of your knife going back into the sheath drew his attention to you, the look on his face making it impossible to tell if he was more annoyed you’d disobeyed orders or impressed that you’d brought Dean back by yourself.

You glanced between the two brothers for a moment before gesturing to the door. “I’ll give you two a minute.” You slipped out and made your way to the vending machine near your room. After scouring the snacks had bored you, you pulled out your phone to look through your meagre contact list. Mainly supervisors, coworkers and a few acquaintances who wouldn’t miss you. The feeling was mutual. You couldn’t deny the satisfaction that ran through you as you deleted everyone’s number but Sam’s. Hopefully, Dean’s would soon be added to the list. You perked up at the thought.

You looked up at the sound of footsteps. Sam Winchester slumped towards you, complete with hands in his pockets and a sheepish look on his face. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Sam,” you said, not bothering to keep the annoyance out of your tone.

“Look, um…” he scratched at the back of his neck. “I’m really sorry. I should’ve at least looked into it more.”

You sighed. “Well, he’s here now, so…guess that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah…” He sighed. “Dean said he’s gonna train you to be a hunter. You’re 100% sure this is what you want? Lee said he can still get you back home if you want.”

“I’m 110% sure, Sam. I’m not going back there. It was never home for me.”

Sam exhaled sharply once more, glancing over at the now busy street.

“You’re setting a world record for sighing,” you said. “Trust me. This is what I want. If I get myself killed, I’ll only haunt you a little bit, I promise.”

Sam chuckled before nodded. “All right, then. I have to go home to Amelia. I think she’s starting to suspect that something’s up. But Dean’s still in there,” he gestured to the hotel, “and I’ll be seeing you around.”

“What are you gonna tell her?”

“I don’t know. Hopefully I _will_ know by the time I get back home—and thank you for saving my brother.”

You nodded. “Stay safe.”

“Yeah, you too. You still have my number if you need anything?”

“Yeah. I’ll text you, keep you updated on where I am.”

Sam smiled, pulling you into a quick hug. “Welcome to the life.”

You snorted. “Thanks.”

Sam gave you a half smile and waved as he trudged back to the Impala. Dean emerged from the room and made his way over to Sam, holding his hand out. Sam dropped Baby’s keys in his brother’s hand as what you assumed was an uber pulled into the parking lot, idling in front of Sam. Sam and Dean stared at each other for a moment before embracing one last time. Once Sam climbed in, the uber sped off and you made your way back over to Dean. He gently caressed Baby’s paint before turning to you.

“What now?” you asked.

He smirked. “Now, we hunt.”


End file.
